Sex Camel
by SurlyCoach
Summary: Do you really need more explanation than the title? Come on, y'all. Just read it. Edited and restored for the archives. One-shot.


**DAY 14 **

It had been fourteen days since they had last had sex. Fourteen days - - that was 336 hours, 20,160 minutes, 1,209,600 seconds. A long time. A very long time.

Eric hadn't come on to her once in all that time. He hadn't even hinted. On at least three occasions in the last fourteen days she'd kissed him goodnight a little extra deeply, and he'd simply said, "I love you" and then rolled over. On at least two occasions, she'd worn those bright red silk pajamas she knew he loved and left the top two buttons unbuttoned to reveal her cleavage and sat down right next to him on the couch after Gracie was in bed. But he'd only said, "You look nice" and changed the channel.

Fourteen days. He wasn't particularly busy. He had two-a-days, but school hadn't even started. He wasn't under any particular stress. No problems with the administration. No problems with the boosters. No financial problems at home. No problems with Gracie, other than the usual. He wasn't drinking any more than normal, so she couldn't put it down to the dampening powers of alcohol. He had just turned 45, and she knew the male libido began to decline at a certain age, but not like a light switch suddenly shifting off.

Tami marched out to the living room where he was sitting in his recliner, feet up, watching – - surprisingly - – not game film. He was watching some documentary about cheeseburgers. "Eric!"

He looked away from the television, halfway. He still had one eye on the two-pound cheeseburger the man was about to attempt to consume. "Yeah?"

"Look at me!"

He turned his attention all the way and clicked off the TV.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Are you having an affair?" It was the only explanation remaining.

"An affair?" he said, sliding the remote into the holder on the left side of his recliner. He'd installed it because he kept losing the remote. "What on earth would make you think that? When I'm not at practice, I have Gracie all day. When and where would I have managed to have an affair?"

"Well, it's the only thing that makes any sense," she insisted.

"A lot of things make sense, babe. Two plus two is four. That makes sense. Starting McKinley next season instead of Hamilton, that makes sense. Me having an affair? That doesn't make a lot of sense. I like my man parts. I'd like to keep them intact. I like my marriage. I'd like to keep that intact too."

"You like your marriage? Really? Could have fooled me."

"I just brought you flowers two days ago."

It was true, he had. For no reason at all. Which made her think that would be the night he came on to her. But he hadn't.

She threw herself down on the couch and sighed. "Why haven't you tried for sex in fourteen days? Why haven't you come on to me at all?"

He looked surprised. "You've been counting? I mean, I know I have, but I wouldn't have thought you'd been."

"What do you mean you've been counting? Why haven't you made a move then?"

"Because," he said, reaching for the arm of the recliner and lowering the stool, "I'm tired of always initiating. I wanted to see how long it would take for you to come on to me. Fourteen days. Fourteen days. And you still haven't _actually _come on to me. You're just asking what's going on."

"I initiate sometimes!"

"No, babe, you don't. Not really. When you're in the mood - - which isn't as often as I'd like - - you put on something nice and you sit down next to me and then you just wait for me to go for it."

"You want me to say please? Is that what you want?"

"It'd be nice, yeah. Because almost all of the time, I'm the one asking. And I'm getting shot down fifty percent of the time I _do_ ask. Well things are going to change around here. Next time we have sex, it'll be because you come begging _to __**me**_."

"Is that so?"

"That's so," he said, rising from the recliner. "I'll be in my study if you have any special request to make of me."

She was still shaking her head when he shut the study door. She couldn't believe it. He was testing her? Some nerve! Well, there was no way she was going to give him the satisfaction!

Just give him a few more days, she thought. He'd make a move. He'd ask. Eventually, he'd _beg_. Just a few more days. He couldn't last. Not if they were living under the same roof. Not if she was wearing her sexiest clothes and his favorite perfume. She could endure – - she'd show him. She was a sex camel. One good hump was all she needed – - and she could last weeks, months even.

She didn't miss it. Not really. Well, maybe a little. She missed the feel of his warm, naked flesh pressed close against hers. She missed the way he touched her, just _so_, just _there_. She missed the heat of his breath on her ear when he was getting really, really excited. She missed how deep his voice got when he moaned her name. She missed his boyish laugh when she did something he didn't expect, when she gave him some little sexual surprise. She missed the feel of his thumb as it circled – stop it! Stop thinking of the details! Stop already! She was a sex camel! She could outlast him. She _would_ outlast him.

It was only a matter of time.

He'd come crawling to her.

He _had_ to.

**DAY 15**

When Tami got home from work, Eric was putting dinner on the table. Not his usual ribs, pork chops, or chili. No, he'd made some kind of buttery chicken dish with asparagus. He smiled at her and said hello. "Gracie already ate because she couldn't wait until you got home. I fed her mac n' cheese 'cause I didn't think she'd touch this. When you get changed, come on and sit with me." He gestured to a bottle on the table. "I got your favorite chardonnay."

"Hmmm…" she said. "Thank you."

Well, she knew that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, but she guessed he figured the way into a woman's pants was through a fancy meal and a bottle of wine. And, sure, if he wanted to ask for sex after that lovely dinner, she would gladly say yes. If _he_ wanted to ask _her_. But she was a sex camel. _Sex camel,_ she told herself. He'd cave eventually.

She went into the bedroom and slipped out of her work clothes. She dug around in the back of the drawer for those way too short jean shorts she never wore anymore but couldn't quite bring herself to give away. She knew he loved them. Then she found that low-cut tank top she was thinking of giving away because she hadn't tried it on before she bought it and it had turned out to be a little too revealing. She walked sexily out of the bedroom to the kitchen, sat down at the dinner table, and crossed her legs. She took a sip of the chardonnay he'd poured and made sure he was looking before she wet her lips – slowly, oh so slowly - - with her tongue.

"Like that wine?" he asked and picked up his fork. "Hungry? You can always _ask_ for seconds, you know. Babe, you can always _ask _for what you want_, _and I'll be happy to oblige."

**DAY 16 **

It was Saturday so Tami was cooking. Eric had just been out at the park with Gracie. He plopped his little girl down in the living room in front of her basket of toys and went to the bedroom to shower and change. He'd gotten a little sweaty chasing Gracie up and down the hill, which was all she wanted to do the whole damn time. Expensive, fancy playground equipment and quite the drive to get there - - and all she wanted to do was make him run up and down that damn hill.

After his shower he looked in the medicine cabinet for his after shave, but he didn't put it on. He'd been at the pediatrician for Gracie's check-up last week, and he'd read some article in a magazine. _Reader's Digest_ or something. It claimed the number one aphrodisiacal scent for women was - - weirdly enough – - baby powder. Maybe it made them think of babies and babies made them think of sex. Who knew? Journalists were wiser than he.

He closed the medicine cabinet and opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink. He dug way in the back. He knew he'd tossed some back there after the move, wondering why he'd packed it since Gracie Belle wasn't in diapers anymore, and even when she was, Tami told him not to use it because of some modern nonsense about babies inhaling the talcum powder and developing asthma, but he used it in secret when she wasn't looking because it really did keep his little girl's bottom dry and, well, hell, he liked the smell of baby powder himself.

He dug and dug through all the junk until he found it. He turned the top and whiffed. Still smelled like baby powder. He took a handful and patted it all over his bare chest. Then he went out in the bedroom and pulled out the tightest white T-shirt he could find, one that would show off his biceps. Tami had once said he looked good in blue jeans and a tight T-shirt.

He glanced at himself in the mirror over her dresser. He knew she liked it when his hair was all tussled. She thought it was cute and maybe even a little bit sexy. It reminded her of how he looked after winning a difficult game, and his confidence and command on the field turned her on. Tussled hair also probably reminded her of the way he looked after sex. He put his hands in his hair and mussed it up.

He came out of the bedroom, came up behind her where she was stirring the pot on the stove, put his hands around her waist, and kissed that one spot right where her neck curved down to her shoulder - - that spot he knew was her favorites spot to be kissed. "Good evening," he growled.

She reached one hand back and touched his cheek. She breathed in his scent. "Did you get a new cologne?" she asked. "I like that. You should keep using that."

He smiled. She squirmed away from him. "Sit down," she said. Then her eyes lingered on him. She liked the T-shirt, he thought. She liked the hair. She clearly liked what she saw. She looked away. "Dinner'll be on the table in a sec."

A minute later, she set the plate down in front of him. Bone-in pork chops. Bone-in. His favorite. She was trying to reel him in. She came back with a beer. It wasn't a cheap one either. It was a Guinness, in that special can that made it come out just right. She popped the can and poured it in a mug for him. "Thought you'd like a step up," she said.

She sat down across from him. She was trying not to look at him, he could tell. He asked her about her day, drew her eyes back. She said something vague. She picked up one of the thin breadsticks she'd put in the middle of the table. They never had breadsticks with pork chops. He'd wondered what they were for. When she slid it into her mouth ever so slowly, and then slid it back out, he knew.

"Mhmmmmm…." she murmured. "I love these breadsticks. I just love to lick them…taste them…savor them..." She slid it slowly in and out of her mouth again. "If you want a breadstick," she said. "All you have to do is _ask_."

**DAY 20 **

Tami couldn't believe Eric had made it an entire week without caving. She'd tried crawling into bed with every different piece of lingerie she had. He'd only kissed her goodnight and said, "Did you want to ask me something?" Every evening when she'd gotten home from work and kissed him hello, she'd shifted her lips from his mouth to his neck and nibbled on that one spot that usually drove him crazy. He'd only said, "That feels nice" and gone about his business.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself," she replied. She took off all her clothes.

He didn't bat an eyelash. He just said, "That's interesting. You don't have anything on. Did you want to ask me something?"

"No," she said innocently. "It's just that it's summer, and I thought I'd stay cool by sleeping naked tonight."

"Intriguing," he said, "because you never slept naked in Texas, and it was a hell of a lot hotter."

"Well," she said, crawling under the covers, "I just thought I'd try it for a change."

"A'ight," he said. "Whatever floats your boat." He closed his book and gave her a quick peck on the lips. He tossed the book on the floor and turned off the light. "Night, babe." He rolled over.

An hour later she got out of bed. While she listened to his soft snores, she put on her pajamas. She couldn't fall sleep naked. It felt weird.

**DAY 22 **

Tonight was their monthly date night. The sitter was secured. The evening was designed to Eric's advantage, but Tami swore to herself that she was not going to give in when they got home. He'd bought tickets to the theatre downtown as a surprise. She'd learned to like plays since moving to Phili, but she always went with her girlfriends. He'd never before agreed to go with her. So there was the fact he'd done something really thoughtful, just for her. But then there was the even worse fact that he'd have to wear a suit. And of course he picked his best-cut, most handsome suit. He looked really, really good.

They went to see _MacBeth_. Shakespeare. His arm was strong and possessive around her shoulders as they watched. She had trouble concentrating. She couldn't remember feeling this horny since she was seventeen and sex was a new and exciting world waiting to be explored.

_I am a sex camel_, she told herself. _I am a sex camel. I will not lose this contest. I will win. I –_

"I have no spur," MacBeth's voice projected loudly from the stage, "To prick the sides of my intent, but only / Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself."

Tami blinked. She turned and looked at Eric, who looked at her, smiled lightly, and kissed her cheek. "I don't understand it," he whispered, "but I love you. I understand that." And then he turned his eyes back to the stage.

She put a hand on his knee.

The only thing her husband wanted was to prove to himself that he was desired by his own wife. What a simple ambition. How cruel of her to deny him its fulfillment. Her pride was o'erleaping itself here just a little bit with this sex camel thing, wasn't it?

She leaned toward him, kissed his ear, and whispered, "I need to go to the powder room. Will you come with me?"

"To the bathroom?"

"Just to walk me there. I don't want to get attacked on the way."

"We're not exactly in the ghetto. And can't you wait until intermission?"

"Please," she said.

He shrugged and stood with her and they excuse-med their way down the row and to the aisle. But when they were in the lobby and he began to steer her toward the bathrooms she grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall and into one of the walk-in coat closets. She kicked the door stopper from the door and slammed it shut.

"Tami, what the – "

She reached above and yanked the chain that dangled from the bulb at the center and clothed them in darkness.

"Fuck me," she said.

He stood there, in stunned silence.

She grabbed him by the tie and tugged him until they toppled through some coats and her back was against the closet wall. "Please," she said, as she began unfastening his belt and assaulting his neck with a barrage of kisses. "Pretty please."

"Oh God," he said, "Yes, ma'am."

They returned to the play sometime toward the end of Act 2, but Tami doubted very much Eric heard a word of it. He sat there staring straight ahead at the stage, his hand clutching hers, a broad grin plastered on his face, a blush on his cheeks.

They'd never done anything like that before, not even when they were teenagers. They'd had sex once by the lake, and once in the car, and once in Tami's upstairs bedroom while her mom was asleep down the hall after Eric had snuck through the window, but that was as close to discovery as they'd ever gotten. They were both pretty easy to satisfy, and not at all inclined to exhibitionism, but the long drought had made it easy to forget their inhibitions, and, thank God, no one had attempted to enter the coat closet. Not that they'd taken too terribly long, or removed more than the necessary clothing.

At intermission, as they strolled hand and hand through the lobby, Tami was keenly aware of all of the women looking with admiration at her husband. She didn't usually notice that. She wasn't sure if it didn't usually happen, or if she just didn't notice. But she noticed tonight. Blonde heads, brunette heads, red heads - - they all kept turning in his direction. She tightened her hold on his hand and said, "Let's just go on home. The babysitter will have put Gracie to bed by now, and we can take it slower this time." She kissed his cheek. "Please?"

He laughed. "You're something else. I love you, Tami."

"I know you do."

**/AND THAT THERE'S THE END /**


End file.
